


Who Knows, Might Work Out

by DiscourteousCuttlefish



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, chapter one is really just set up i swear ill add more pain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-07-26 18:59:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7586146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiscourteousCuttlefish/pseuds/DiscourteousCuttlefish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off/inspired by this post http://hinoart.tumblr.com/post/147883611842/can-we-have-something-angsty-about-those-3-please</p><p>McCree inadvertently enters an unrequited love triangle with Gabriel Reyes and Jack Morrison</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Role Models

It was no surprise Jesse McCree hadn’t had a lot of positive role models in his life, but life was tough and you worked with what you got. The Deadlock Gang had been the closest thing he’d known to a family. They watched out for each other in so far as they needed to because each member served a purpose. And he’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t felt fond of any members past the fondness that came with being part of a tight gang.But none of his time in the Deadlock Gang or before could have prepared him for his time in Overwatch.

Jesse recalled when he had first been captured by Blackwatch. He had watched as Blackwatch forces had torn his gang apart quicker then he’d thought possible. It was unfathomable to him that the great Deadlock Gang could be taken down so easily, although in hindsight McCree realized that he may have been partially misinformed by his own massive ego.

And after the fight he’d been, battered and bloody, handcuffed, weapon taken, sitting across Gabriel Reyes in a van heading god knows where. Jesse was more than a little uneasy. During the battle, as he had taken out Overwatch agents while running backup for the gang, his eyes had made direct contact with razor sharp ones across the battlefield. Those eyes looked like they were better suited to a bird of prey than a man. Jesse had pushed it to the back of his mind and tried to continue giving support. He didn’t have time to react when the man blindsided him not ten minutes later. The man - Gabriel Reyes as he had learned later sitting in the van - ripped McCrees gun from his hand and swiftly incapacitated him with a buttwhack to the head from one of his shotguns. The blow left him dazed enough that he couldn’t fight back as Reyes pinned him and zip tied him to a nearby piece of wreckage. Jesse could do nothing but watch as Blackwatch dissipated the remaining gang members. Those who were not dead or captured fled, leaving McCree and everyone else to their fate.

And then the man who’d torn through the one community Jesse’d known like a piece of tissue paper was sitting there, looking at him with those raptorial eyes. McCree could not, for all his attempts, think of a time where he was more afraid for his life.

But then he saw that look in the commander’s eye. A look he was well acquainted with. The look that someone gives when appraising another's worth and concluding their usefulness. Jesse had seen the same look in the eye of the leader of the Deadlocks. And at that point Jesse knew exactly what was coming, and resigned himself to it. If life had taught one consistent lesson, it was that being useful is the greatest key to survival one could have. People wanted to keep their tools in good shape, wanted to keep them from breaking.

So he’d joined Blackwatch. It was just as much a survival tactic as becoming a member of the Deadlocks. Just being a gun for a new master.

But then something happened that he hadn’t expected. Reyes seemed to actually have some investment in him. With the Deadlock gang, he’d had skill already and the gang was content with that and let him be. That wasn’t good enough for Reyes.

_You have potential, but you’re going to have to actually put in work if you really want to be great, hot shot._

That’s what Reyes had said to him. And that had blown him away. No one had ever told McCree he could be better.

And he was certain no one had ever taken the time to actually help him do that. But Gabriel Reyes was adamant that Jesse McCree would learn and get better at combat, even if he had to personally train him.

And that was how Gabriel Reyes became Jesse McCree’s first positive influence, and Jesse McCree began to develop a deep respect and adoration for the man that he didn’t think could be shaken. In hindsight, as much as he his thankful for what Reyes did for him, he wished it hadn’t been the case because it had made things so much more complicated.

Months had passed since Jesse had been taken in by Blackwatch, months since Jesse had begun idolizing Gabriel Reyes, when Jack Morrison had walked in the front gates of the Blackwatch HQ.

Jesse McCree was pretty sure he felt a mild heart palpitation when Jack had walked in. He was pretty sure that the Strike Commander was the closest anyone could get to the literal personification of sunshine. He’d seen pictures of Morrison before - he was neither oblivious nor an idiot, he has familiar with the organization hunting his gang even if he didn’t directly know Blackwatch - but as charming as he looked in pictures, it was nothing compared to real life.

And when Jack had introduced himself, smiling warmly, almost blindingly, McCree could barely choke out a Howdy as his cigar slipped out of his slightly agape mouth and dropped onto his leg, burning him.

The nearly literal ball of sunshine had laughed as Jesse cursed and brushed the cigar away and then asked if he was okay, leaving McCree even more flustered and awestruck than before. Jesse could feel himself getting red, heat spreading across his cheeks and on the back of his neck.

“What are you doing here, Jack.”

(An accusation more than a question, Jesse realized years later.)

Jesse had thanked all the powers that be for Reyes’ abrupt entry taking some of Jack’s attention off of him. That is until he noticed that all of Jack’s warn rays were aimed directly at his commander. Almost like McCree wasn’t there at all.

And Jesse felt a pang in his chest. _Jealousy._

He tried to convince himself that being jealous was ridiculous and he’d barely even met the man, but he couldn’t help but feel a burning jealousy inside him as he watched Morrison depart with Reyes.

McCree knew it was childish and detrimental to himself, but he spent the rest of that day researching Strike Commander Morrison. He looked at speeches, press releases, photographs, anything that could give him more information on the older man.

And with each passing minute he felt the jealously welling up within him. He wanted nothing more than for some, hell any, of those warm rays to be directed at him. Each time he caught a glimpse of Morrison with Reyes around the base he felt the desperate longing in his chest drawing him towards Jack’s light. And it hurt him badly.

There were days when Morrison was around the Blackwatch HQ, or the Blackwatch members had been brought to the Overwatch HQ, that Jesse would rather lock himself in his room or lose himself in training because he didn’t think he could bear to see Reyes and Morrison together. He’d hide himself away from other Blackwatch members and make excuses to skip out on training or meals.

And any time he’d had the misfortune to be wrapped up in a conversation with the Strike Commander he was unbearably flustered and barely able to make full sentences. In in the back of his mind he could only picture Reyes. He was burying himself in his longing for Morrison and his guilt for his perceived betrayal of the man he idolized.

It was obvious Jack Morrison loved Gabriel Reyes, and McCree thought he must be betraying Reyes by even thinking about Jack like that.

McCree pinched the bridge of his nose as he walked through the Nuwatch HQ, reflecting on the past. He wasn’t sure why he had answered Winston’s recall, but he was starting to regret it as familiar faces and places dredged up old memories. And looking back at those old memories he couldn’t believe how young and dumb he’d been. He was so infatuated with Jack, so completely and utterly lost in his adoration of Jack that he couldn’t imagine the idea that someone wouldn’t return Jack’s feelings.

Jesse sighed to himself as he wandered the familiar halls of Watchpoint Gibraltar; the whole place felt like some surreal setting out of a dream. Halls that used to be bustling with activity were now completely empty, leaving him in silence with his own memories. Jesse was hoping more people would answer the recall, because as of that moment the giant base was occupied only by about 6 members, some old some new. For now he listened to the sounds of his heels and spurs clanging on the ground and considered how much pain he’d have saved himself and others if he’d have been aware of what was really going on.

Jesse McCree knew, at least he told himself he knew, that it was just a childish crush, but why did it have to hurt so bad.


	2. Blue Falcons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never trust your teammates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue Falcon is military slang for "Buddy Fucker..." but not in the fun way, like your teammates fucked ya over.

Lena had been among the first to arrive at the Nuwatch HQ.  She was just as bubbly and energetic as McCree had remembered.  Reinhardt had arrived shortly after with a young woman he had never seen before - Brigitte, as Reinhardt had introduced her.  He’d somehow also managed to drag Torbjorn back with him, who McCree never thought he’d see stepping foot in an Overwatch base again.  Reinhardt was perhaps somehow even more boisterous than before.  As soon as he had spotted Jesse, he had pulled him into a back breaking hug that left him winded for a good five minutes. 

 

  _At least some of us haven’t been worn down by the world._   _Heh, I’m pretty sure Reinhardt’d get on my case for grumbling like an old man thinking’ like this._

 

Some new members arrived as well.  A straight-laced looking woman from India, Satya had been talking to Winston about the bases defenses when he arrived.  He was a little shocked to see what he was fairly certain was a Vishkar employee here, but she’d greeted him cordially enough.

 

McCree didn’t think he could find a person with enough energy to rival Lena, but Lucio sure as hell had her matched at least. 

 

“Hey, Jesse!” Tracer yelled, breaking him from his thoughts, “I’d like you to meet one of our new members, Lucio.”  She gestured dramatically to the kid next to her as if showing him off.

 

With a tip of his hat he’d said, “Howdy!”

 

Immediately a huge smile spread across Lucio’s face.

 

“Ohh man!  Lena said they had a cowboy, but I didn’t expect, like, a straight up cowboy!  That’s awesome!  Oh man, that makes me think; do you think one of those spaghetti western themes would mix well?  That’s something I’ve never tried!  Thanks for the inspiration, cowboy!  See you around, John Wayne!”  And with that, Tracer dragged the new kid off to see the rest of the base.

 

_John Wayne…_

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, John Wayne!”

 

McCree finished unloading his revolver on the practice dummy before brushing his hair back and turning to face his commander.

 

Gabriel Reyes had waited expectantly for him to finish.  He’d been unusually friendly to Jesse for the past few weeks.  Not that Reyes wasn’t usually pretty friendly, they trained together, shot-the-shit, ate together, and all the other normal unit camaraderie stuff.  But he’d been much friendlier.  Talking with him slightly more, inviting him to outings with the squad he wasn’t always invited to being the “kid,” and Jesse was starting to get a little bit nervous.

 

_Oh God.  Is it about Jack?  Is he waiting for me to admit somethin’s happened?  I ain’t even done nothin…_

 

“You done?”

 

“Yep…just finishing up.  Did’ya need something, Sir?”  Jesse said quickly, trying to fight back a stutter and a growing heat on his cheeks.

 

“Right, well we’re going out to one of the local bars, celebrate the mission success and all.  You should come, we would have been in bad shape without your quick shooting.”

 

Something in the back of his head told Jesse he shouldn’t go, but he agreed anyway.  Much as he hated to admit it, he reveled in any opportunity to be surrounded by his teammates and, of course, Reyes, who he’d grown to idolize.  It reminded him of his time with the Deadlocks, but so much better.  So much lighter.

 

He’d walked to the bar that night with some of his crew.  The commander was already at the bar, they told him.  They kept snickering at him the whole way to the bar, and it was really starting to put Jesse on edge.  Every time he’d ask them what was so damn funny they’d just laugh and ruffle his hair, something he hated more than anything - he wasn’t that young dammit!

 

_Lighten up, kid.  Don’t worry about it._

 

* * *

 

 

“Earth to Jesse!  Hullo, love, rejoin us mere mortals on Earth!”  It was Lena who had dragged McCree out of his memories once more.

 

“Huh?  Sorry, darlin’.  Just lost in thought is all…”  He tried to play it off.  “Can I help you with something?”

 

“Um, yes.  You’ve been wandering around base all day!  I’ve been looking everywhere for you!  No matter, we’re heading into town!  Show the new kids around the bar scene at least.” She said with a wink. “And you _have_ to come, no excuses!”

 

 

He couldn’t have said no if he wanted to, she was down the hall before she could even open his mouth.

 

He supposed that settled it.

_Guess I better freshen up.  Hate to put off the new members by smellin’ like a stray dog_.  He’d been at the Gibraltar base a couple of days, but survival mode can be hard to shake.  Being on the run for so long had pushed hygiene down on his priorities.  Showering was nice, but not quite as nice as not getting shot.  Just one more thing to get used to again. 

 

None of this quite felt real yet.  Everything was familiar but off, felt like some kind of liminal space mimicking reality.  The familiar halls were sterile and empty, and the sunlight streaming in through the windows made the whole place feel even more empty and abandoned.  Like walking through some ancient, abandoned temple.  He really hated the sound of his boots’ heels and spurs echoing throughout. 

 

Finally reaching his room, he started stripping off his grimy clothes and headed for the shower.  He let the warm water wash over him, clearing off all the grit and salt and sweat.  He’d been alright letting his tension melt away until his mind started wandering again.  Wandering back to…

_Jack._

 

* * *

 

 

Jesse was going to kill every Blackwatch member later.  _Guess I know what they were gigglin’ about now, at least._

 

Commander Reyes had certainly gone ahead of the squad, but he certainly wasn’t alone.  Jack Morrison was sitting next to him, nursing what appeared to be his third drink.  Jesse felt that all too familiar desire burning inside him.  He wanted so badly to be in Reyes’ place.

 

But McCree wanted nothing more in that moment to just cease to exist, a feeling that was exacerbated by Reyes and Morrison turning to both look directly at him.

 

“Gabe!  Is he even old enough to be in here?”

 

“Relax, _dad_.  We aren’t in America, he’s nineteen, he’s legal here.” _Did he mean to say it like that?_ “Get over here and get a drink, all of you!”

 

Jesse tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible as he attempted to sit on the other side of the bar.  He could swear some of his squad members were smirking at him.  _I hate all of y’all._

 

“Oh hell no, cowboy!”  Reyes shouted, “Jack, you won’t believe what this kid did during the mission, practically took out half the combatants on his own.  Get over here, Jesse.  I’m buying you a drink.”

 

Jesse froze and turned bright red.  Hesitantly, he moved towards the commanders. 

_At least Reyes’ll be between Morrison and – oh come on…_

 

Much to Jesse’s dismay, Reyes slid over and left the seat between him and Jack open. 

 

“I’m sure the Strike Commander would like to get you a congratulatory drink as well.” 

_Why do you want to torture me today, sir?  There’s that look again… what good could this possibly do you…_

The night started out as awkwardly as Jesse would have imagined.  He did his best to keep discussion on mission or Overwatch related subjects.  To both his dismay and relief, Jack kept most of his attention on Gabriel, looking over him like one does a child in the middle of an adult conversation.  But Gabriel kept looking at Jesse and dragging Jesse back into the conversation.  And soon enough Jack was following Reyes’ lead and focusing his attention on McCree.

 

At first, his answers were choppy and reserved, but, a couple of hours and several ‘congratulatory’ drinks later, Jesse was starting to open up more.  He was more active in the conversation.  Reyes he knew well, just from normal mission banter, but Morrison he had rarely spoken to, especially since he’d taken to avoiding him.  Jesse honestly couldn’t believe he was as much of an All-American, Indiana farm-boy as the media made him out to be.  Although, he was noticing there is more to him that just his Boy Scout image.  A lot of Jack’s stories involved rash decisions, his apparently short fuse, his borderline obsessive persistence, and his bull-headedness. 

 

The drinks kept coming, and McCree was growing bolder.  And as they spoke, Jesse realized he was physically closer to Jack than he’d ever been before.  Under the low, red lights of the bar he somehow felt like he was seeing him more clearly than before.  His handsome face was slightly worn, wrinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes and mouth, but still maintain such a look of good heartedness that Jesse wasn’t surprised he’d thought the man looked younger before. 

 

_He has a touch of grey at the temples…guess he’s human after all._

 

“You have grey hairs already,” Jesse said out loud, causing Gabriel to snort in his drink, “Clearly you need to relax more.”

 

A blush spread across Morrison’s face that made Jesse’s heart stop.  McCree was inadvertently leaning in, moving his face closer to Jack’s.  Too close apparently, because Reyes abruptly stopped laughing, a look of concern and maybe regret on his face.

 

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough, cowboy.”  He said, getting off his stool and dragging Jesse off his.  “You all have liberty tomorrow, not that any of you could work after tonight anyway,” This warranted a cheer from the squad, “don’t die on the way back to base, I’m going to make sure this idiot gets to his berth alive... See you around, Morrison.”

 

Jack and the squad waved them both out as Reyes maintained a vice grip on Jesse’s arm, pulling him out.  For his part, McCree waved back in a sloppy manner, keeping his eyes locked on Jack and stumbling after his commander. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support so far! Let me know what you think, feedback is always welcome!


	3. Blue Falcons Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trusting your teammates is a poor life choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm so slow //u_u// it's been a busy couple of weeks... I've already started the next chapter though, so perhaps it wont take as long.. thanks to everyone who has been reading!
> 
> Also, again, Blue Falcon is military slang for 'buddy fucker' in the 'you fucked your teammate over' sort of way  
> And an Irish Car Bomb is a drink where you drop a shot of Irish cream and whisky into a glass of stout and more or less chug it. Lena may not be Irish, but anyone can enjoy destroying their body with terrible cocktails.

McCree wasn’t sure at what point that night he had just decided _Fuck it, tomorrow’s just gonna suck._

 

The NuWatch team, minus Winston, who would probably not be pleased if he had to go drag everyone back, and Satya, who had surprisingly accepted the invitation but declined the drinks offered, was a few steps past drunk at the moment.  It didn’t help that they started out strong.  Lena had insisted on getting a round of Irish Car Bombs as soon as they entered. 

 

She’d then insisted on buying everyone a round of whiskey shots, followed by another round whiskey shots.  Then the other former overwatch members started buying rounds to celebrate their reunion.  Hell, even Jesse bought them all a round of bourbon.  Lucio bought everyone a colorful tray of shots.  McCree was vaguely concerned about Lucio’s ability to drink, he was easily outlasting the rest of the team.  _Makes me wonder what his parties are like with his freedom fighters back home..._

 

It didn’t matter that they didn’t all like everyone’s drink choices, it was a night for celebration and reminiscing.  Lucio had even managed to get Satya a single drink which she was nursing slowly but seemed to enjoy.  Lucio had managed to pull her closer into the celebration; she was still reserved but somehow less distant. 

 

At some point the conversation had turned to the old overwatch commanders.

 

“Ach, it was always such a shame what went down between Jack and Gabriel.  They were always so close…” Reinhardt managed to slur out while dramatically draped over Torbjorn, who was shockingly still upright and not crumpled under the larger man’s weight. 

 

That seemed to catch everyone’s attention.  Jesse, who had been giggling with Lena while telling the new members about the first and last time Winston had ever been drunk and had destroyed half the bar over whether creamy or crunchy peanut butter was better, suddenly snapped his eyes to Reinhardt.  In the back of his mind, he fuzzily realized that he wanted to escape this conversation, but he doubted he could successfully even stand up off his seat at the moment.

 

“They were idiots is what happened!” Declared Torbjorn, a predictably angry drunk. “I’m sure you saw close up, Jesse, you always seemed to be stuck between the two of them.”

 

Jesse was really glad that he was already red from the alcohol because he would certainly have been bright red now. 

 

“Wha’s that supposed to mean?”  McCree started, though he was still unsure whether he should try and defend himself in this state.  He might make everything worse, but his drunk conscious overrode his logical mind.

 

“Oh c’mon, love!  You were practically their child or somthin’… Or maybe that’s not right, didn’t you have a crush on one of ‘em or both or…” Tracer managed to get out between the hiccups she’d had for the last half hour.

 

McCree had opened his mouth to respond, but luckily for him at that point Torbjorn fell forward off his chair, which caused Reinhardt to come crashing down, taking out half the bar stools, and the conversation was lost when the whole crew burst into laughter.  Even Satya was stifling a giggle before she finally suggested that they should probably call Winston or at least leave before they were kicked out.  Somehow their drunken pleas convinced her to set up a teleporter out behind the bar so they could ‘sneak into the base’ without disturbing Winston who probably had ‘important science shit to do or something.’

 

In the end it really ended up just being Lucio and Satya dragging their comrades who couldn’t really do more than a sad crawl at that point.  Satya was able to carry Tracer while Lucio grabbed Torbjorn but it took both of them to carry McCree and Reinhardt.  Reinhardt took both of them, about 15 extra minutes, and eventually a dolly. 

 

After finally depositing their teammates into their respective berths, Lucio bid Satya goodnight and returned to his own room to hopefully catch the end of D.Va’s livestreams.

 

 _Damn, now I really want to know what was up with the cowboy and those commanders._ Lucio thought, settling down in front of the computer.

* * *

 

 

Jesse McCree woke up feeling closer to death than he ever had in his life.  At least, that’s how he felt. 

 

_I never… want… to go drinking… with any of them ever again._

 

While loudly cursing the sun and the fact it was obviously conspiring to make his head burst, he tried to recall the events of last night.  He covered his face with as many blankets and pillows as he could reach and briefly considered that he might be late for something.

 

_The sir can, no disrespect, get fucked.  I am not leaving this bed today or maybe ever again… wait… “You all have liberty tomorrow, not that any of you could work after tonight anyway…”_

 

At least Jesse could thank the fates for that.  He relaxed a little under his sheets and tried to work backwards from there and remember what happened to make sure he didn’t do anything embarrassing… _and of course I did something embarrassing._

 

Jesse bolted upright, eyes wide before falling back down when his body remembered that he was supposed to be in pain.  Curling up once more, he tried to calm down and remember how much of a fool he’d made of himself. 

 

Okay, he remembered showing up, he remembered being sat down between Reyes and Morrison.  He remembered drinking.  Definitely lots of drinking.  He remembered talking more openly with the Strike Commander.  He remembers getting closer to the other man.  _God, was I really that close… great, first time I ever really spoke to the man and now he probably thinks I’m a weirdo._

 

He wished he hadn’t remembered their closeness, or his warm smell, or how beautiful his eyes were… And there he was embarrassing himself again.  And… and Reyes’ face. _Oh god._ There he was embarrassing himself and betraying his commander, the man who’d more or less saved him from his life. 

 

_Well it’s official, I’ve managed to both make an ass of myself and make Reyes hate me.  He’s probably going to have me transferred, or just kicked out entirely.  There you go again, Jesse, just ruining everything you get._

 

McCree laid there groaning and praying that he could just melt into the mattress and disappear for longer than he could recount.  His thoughts were such a rapid fire barrage of negativity that he almost didn’t notice when one of his squad members, Williams, started yelling through his door. 

 

“Jesse, wake the fuck up, boy!  It’s like 1300!  There’s no way this is your first hangover, so quit bein’ a baby!”

 

He always felt like Williams was like everyone on the team’s brother, but the older, asshole brother who wants to make your life miserable.  He was like a shitty, movie caricature of an older brother.  He would be the one to come banging on his door knowing full well Jesse probably felt like death.  And as fate would have it, unfair as it was, he was one of those people who never got a hangover and could still wake up at zero-six every morning as though nothing went wrong.  He probably woke everyone else up the same way too.  He probably woke everyone up before Jesse so they could all have a great time at his expense.

 

He briefly considered an escape out the window before realizing his doom was imminent anyway and he may as well face it.  Although he wasn’t looking forward to getting hassled by his teammates, which he certainly would be, he was terrified of seeing Reyes.  He might just go into cardiac arrest immediately. 

 

Accepting his fate, he pulled himself out of bed and shuffled to the door.  Pushing past the teammate currently occupying his door he mumbled out, “I thought y’all always said I’m team baby anyway.”

 

* * *

 

 

Jesse McCree woke up in the NuWatch HQ with his face unceremoniously smashed into his pillow, in a puddle of drool, with last night’s clothes on at around 1430.  He still hadn’t gotten better at dealing with hangovers.

 

Cracking his eye open only the slightest bit, he surveyed his surroundings.  His serape was tangled around his arms and half of his head, his hat was nowhere to be seen.  At some point someone had left him a cup of coffee by the door, probably Lucio judging by the happy frogs doodled on the paper cup. 

 

Detangling himself from the mess of sheets and clothing, he managed to drag himself to the coffee and just sat on the floor drinking it.  Letting the drink take the edge of his hangover, he mustered the willpower to head towards the shower.  The upside of having very few members currently was that there was no need to fight over the berthing spaces with private bathrooms. 

 

He looked like he had one foot in the grave and felt just about old enough.  He was just about to make it into the shower when he heard his phone ping.  He almost ignored Tracer but decided he preferred answering her text to the massive headache that he would have when she came banging on his door for an answer. 

 

_Hope you’re feeling alive, love because we’re going hunting!_

 

What the hell’d she mean, ‘hunting?’  He knew her well enough to know she desperately wanted him to ask, and he wanted to end this conversation to end as soon as possible so he could lay in the shower for at least an hour and a half.

 

_I feel like I got run over by stampeding bulls… probably look like it too.  What’re you talking about?_

 

_Winston says we’re going after that bloke who keeps breaking into old Overwatch facilities.  That ~~mysterious~~ guy they’re calling Soldier: 76._

* * *

 

 

As Jesse followed his teammate out to the rec area where everyone was hanging out and looking varying levels of miserable, he felt like he was walking to his execution.  He couldn’t calm the anxiety in his chest and the embarrassment he felt and the hangover certainly wasn’t helping.  Honestly he would have preferred walking to his execution. 

 

He walked in, head low, hoping to not be noticed.  But of course, Williams had a different plan.  As soon as they were in the door he yelled out.

 

“Look who’s rejoined the land of the living!”

 

After the initial wince this elicited in everyone, the entire room turned to look at Jesse.  For his part, Jesse wondered if a person could simultaneously be red from embarrassment and pale from illness, and was really hoping the fact he felt like he was dying of sickness might cover the fact he was actually dying of embarrassment.  Older members for the most part just shook their heads, intent on attempting to suffer in silence.  Others among them snickered and whispered snide remarks to each other. 

 

 _Fantastic_. 

 

As Jesse tried his best to swiftly move through the room to the kitchen area, Williams called after him.

 

“Oh yeah, and Jesse!  The commander went out for a run… but when he’s back he wants to talk to you.”

 

Jesse could feel the smug looks that his teammates were giving him behind his back, but continued to shuffle into the kitchen, mumbling out, “Can’t fuckin’ wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Williams, aka the Belligerent White Man (TM), what a guy.  
> Sorry about any spelling/grammar mistakes haha, I always have to go in and fix stuff after the fact. If you see something feel free to let me know!


	4. Could Have Gone Better, Sure as Hell Could Have Gone Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We've made some regrettable life choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long and its not even that long u_u;;; the past few weeks have been really chaotic, but I'm gonna be settled for at least the next month and a half

It wasn’t the hangover that got him, but the anxiety.Jesse had his face rested against the seat of the toilet and he’d been there basically since eating that morning.Breakfast turned out to have been a waste of time.He felt so ridiculous; he shouldn’t be this afraid to meet with his commanding officer.It was a problem he’d always had.A meeting with the higher ups is always something bad.Back in his Deadlock days it was the same way.He knew it wasn’t fair to Reyes to think it would be the same, but years of living under the threat of being cast out and left to survive alone did that to a person. 

 

He remembered one of the older Deadlock members telling him, “it’s the dread that’ll fuck you over.Twice a day and three times on Sunday.”And if Jesse recalled correctly he’d been trying to fight off anxious nausea about a meeting that day too.It was never battles that got to him, he wasn’t afraid to die fighting.He was, however, terrified of being abandoned.Sure he’d survived on his own before, but that didn’t mean he wanted to.

 

His thoughts were interrupted by another wave of nausea, quickly followed by a light knock on the door.

 

“Fuck. Off.”He tried to muster all his strength behind those words to ward off whichever asshole squad member wanted to harass him now.

 

“Didn’t realize that was our new greeting of the day, I don’t remember signing that order.”

 

_Fuck…. FUCK!Guess it’s too late to pretend I’m unconscious._

 

“Ah, shit, sorry, sir!I’ll be right there.” 

 

Jesse jumped to his feet quickly, too quickly.As soon as he stood up he felt himself nearly black out as he slammed into the door, finally opening it awkwardly.He probably looked like he’d been hit by a train.Maybe worse, judging by Reyes’ expression. 

 

“You look like you got hit by a train…”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“And then that train flew into a gorge-“

 

“Alright, hey now-“

 

“And that gorge was full of dynamite.”

 

“Okay, that’s enough.”

 

“I’m just saying you look terrible.”

 

“That much was clear.” _C’mon, Reyes, why do you have to toy with me like this._

 

Jesse was simultaneously pushing down amusement at Gabriel’s remarks and pushing back the dread that this was the calm before the storm. 

 

_Any moment now he’s gonna spring the news.Jesse McCree hits the dusty trail, alone again._

 

But the commander just averted his eyes around the room awkwardly, fist bouncing off his leg in an antsy manner, with his face in a shifting spectrum moving between concern and regret. 

 

“Sir, about last night… Listen-“ Jesse was just eager to get this over with.Rip off the proverbial bandaid.But the intensity of Gabriel’s snap to attention and stare at the mention of the previous night shut him up. 

 

“Yeah, about last night.”Reyes began, eyes boring into Jesse’s.“I’m… I’m sorry if I put you in an awkward position.”

 

Jesse felt his jaw drop as he fumbled to even for the question ‘why?’

 

Obviously sensing McCree wasn’t going to be able to collect himself enough to continue, he forged on, “Coming out in drinking with your seniors is probably one of the more awkward and uncomfortable situations to be in, especially when you’re wedged between them.”

 

“It was nice, actually.”Jesse felt the words slip out of his mouth before he could stop himself. 

 

That earned him Gabriel’s full attention, which caused him freeze.He could have sworn he saw a twitch of irritation on the commander’s face.

 

“Probably shouldn’t happen again.”The finality in Gabriel’s voice caused those deep feelings to stir in Jesse once more.

 

_That’s not fair.You get to mess around with your superior officer, why can’t I?_

 

His aggravation must have been written all over his face, because now Reyes’ face was clearly pinched in irritation.He looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t seem to quite find the words.After a tense moment that felt unbelievably long, Gabriel’s face softened and he let out a sigh.He threw Jesse a water bottle that he hadn’t even seen him bring in, and then fished around in his hoodie’s pocket and threw him a pill bottle too.

 

“Here… hopefully you’ll look slightly less like roadkill by afternoon, cabrón.” 

 

Gabriel gave him a fond, if not still irritated look, as he walked out the door, which McCree return by sticking his tongue out and a rude hand gesture.The exchange was slightly forced on both sides. 

 

When Jesse was finally alone he cracked open the water and the pills, downing them both quickly.He wasn’t quite sure how he’d say that went.At the very least, he still had a home, but it still didn’t feel great.

 

“What the hell is wrong with you, boy.”He mumbled to himself as he sat back down waiting for the pills to take effect. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jesse could hear Lucio’s music blasting from the conference room and prepared himself for a very painful meeting.  But upon entering the room, he was surprised to find that the music was actually making him feel better. 

 

“It’s the music doing it.” 

 

“Pardon?”

 

“You looked confused, cowboy!You’re wondering why the loud music isn’t makin’ your head burst; its because the music is designed to heal!I made this one just for hangovers; priorities, right man?”Lucio explained. 

 

“You know, Mercy was never that cool.I asked her to cure my hangover once and she banned me from medical for a week.”Jesse drawled, sinking into the seat next to Lucio and resting his head on the conference table. 

 

“Really?She did for me!Of course, she was still giving me that disapproving mom face.You know, this one!”Tracer drew her mouth into a tight line and did her best to look down her nose at the rest of the table, but only succeeded for about 10 seconds before bursting into a fit of giggles. 

 

McCree gave her a wry smile from his position lying on the table.He couldn’t help but remember that Angela hadn’t seemed to like him for quite some time.She thought he was some low brow criminal, just some violent gang member out for blood and money, and he guessed she was right.It had taken her longer than he thought he deserved for her to to come around though.He loved Angela, he really did, but he never could shake that residual unease at the mention of her name. 

 

Any further thoughts were interrupted by Winston’s entrance.Once he looked about to ensure everyone was at least physically present, if not in spirit, he pulled up a display with multiple pictures of the vigilante, Soldier: 76.Jesse couldn’t help but note that they all seemed to be blurry and off center, some not even showing half of hime.

 

_Who ever this is, he’s damn good at avoiding surveillance… but something doesn’t feel right…_

 

“As many of you have probably seen on the news, this masked vigilante, going under the name Soldier: 76, has been attacking former Overwatch bases.”

 

“Working for Talon, no doubt.”Cut in Torbjorn, who was in an exceptionally bad mood due to an exceptionally bad hang over and a large bruise on his face from falling the night before. 

 

Reinhardt next to him was only the slightest bit less chipper than on a normal day.“Sorry, my friend, that does not seem to be the case.That would, of course, be too easy.”

 

“Reinhardt, is correct.”Winston began again, speaking over whatever argument the Swede was prepared to have, “76 seems to be at odds with Talon agents, he has even taken down several of their operations.”

 

“Oh, so an ally then.We could always use more friends, love!”

 

“Dangerous is what he is.”Some members sent McCree a surprised look, mostly because the former Overwatch members had assumed he’d be laid out the rest of the day, as he had been when he was younger and hungover.“Listen, our fights might overlap, but let’s not forget he’s stealing weapon tech.Dangerous, untested weapon tech.And he’s hurt guards too.He’s reckless; a man on a mission determined to carry out that mission no matter the cost.So sorry, darlin, I don’t think we should be throwing him a welcome party just yet.”

 

“And on top of that, we’ve only just begun coming together again.The last thing we want is to have the public and the UN associating an unpredictable, dangerous vigilante with our new Overwatch.It’s better that we capture him and figure out who he is and what he wants, before the UN brings the hammer down on us before we’ve even really started.”Winston agreed, much to Lena’s disappointment. 

 

“You stated you wanted to know who he is?Have you considered the rumors?I’ll admit, I usually wouldn’t put stock in conspiracy theories, but I have to admit the argument is compelling.”Everyone’s attention snapped to Symmetra.No one had expected her to speak, as reserved as she normally was, but Jesse could tell by the uneasy looks on the others faces that she had verbalized something they were all thinking.McCree could not for the life of him figure out what.

 

McCree figured the awkward silence wasn’t going to be lifted anytime soon, so now was the time to ask.

 

“Hold on, what rumors are these?You’ll have to excuse me, being on the run doesn’t exactly allow time for scanning the conspiracy forums.”

 

He certainly hadn’t thought he could make the room _more_ stiff.Reinhardt was looking away, Torbjorn was staring angrily down at his hands, and Lucio, at least, looked as confused as he was.Satya and Tracer were downright staring at him, Tracer’s mouth slightly agape.Winston just looked annoyed that his meeting was going off on a tangent,Satya decided to satisfy his curiosity.

 

“The rumor is, that Soldier: 76 is Strike Commander Jack Morrison.Based on his patters, his height and bui-“

 

“Jack Morrison is dead.”The words came out of him before he even knew he was saying them, and they came out with enough force that everyone was staring at him in shocked silence. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jesse shuffled his way across base.Physically, he had to admit he was feeling a hell of a lot better thanks to the painkillers Reyes brought him.Mentally, he would not say he was doing as well.He was mad at Reyes for more or less telling him to back off, he felt guilty for feeling mad and mad at himself for feeling guilty, and he felt guilty for wanting to spend more time with the Strike Commander and by extension guilty for stepping into what he viewed as Reyes’ territory.But all of that just made him feel jealous and all in all it was getting just a little too complicated in his head. 

 

_This is stupid._

 

He was slowly making his way to the firing range with his head down, not even looking where he was going in the hopes that everyone would see his bad mood and maneuver around him.So he was more than a little pissed off when he ran square into someone.But before the string of curses left his mouth he looked up and froze.

 

_Are you kidding me with this right now…_

 

“Ah!Jesse!I’m glad to see you’re still alive after last night, your teammates were certainly keen on getting you drinks.Not sure if that’s because you're really popular or unpopular.”Jack said with a smile. 

 

_He doesn’t even look like he went out last night.How does he still look perfect? That super soldier formula must be something… His hair isn’t even messier than normal…_

 

_“You have gray hairs…”_

 

Jesse just about died on the spot as he remembered the night before when he had gotten so close to the man before him.He tried with all his might to fight back the blush he knew wanted to show on his face. 

 

Jack’s face had only the quickest flash of concern before he carried on. 

 

“Well listen, I know things got a little… awkward for you.Sorry about that, we aren’t used to having such junior members around.Please don’t think you can’t tell us if we make you uncomfortable.”

 

_Awkward… yeah…_

 

If he remembered what had happened at the end of the night, he didn’t say it right out, but Jesse had the sinking feeling that that super soldier alcohol resistance extended to last night.Jesse managed to dumbly spill out an“Uh huh.”

 

Jack looked like he wanted to says something else, but he just opened and closed his mouth.He ran his hand through his hair stopping it on the back of his neck.  Jesse averted his eyes, afraid his blush would finally show.

 

_That was downright adorable.  Please stop._

 

“Well anyway,”the Strike Commander started, recovering from the awkwardness, “you seem like you’re off to do some training!Don’t let me stop you.You’ve been doing really well with Blackwatch, your mission reports are impressive.Keep up the good work.”

 

And with a pat on the shoulder he left Jesse standing awkwardly in the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Jack Morrison is Dead" *eye emoji x6*


	5. Remember the Weapon Safety Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse's a little stressed. Jesse's stress is causing Ana stress.

Jesse had never done so poorly at a shooting range in his life, and that was not an exaggeration.  If he was being generous, he’d say he was shooting with about 25% accuracy, if by accuracy you purely meant hitting the target at all rather than hitting where he intended. 

 

He was glad none of his teammates were there to watch him flounder.  _Of course, no one in their right mind would go to a shooting range with a hangover.  Well that and they’re all terrified of Ana._

Ana had started coming to the shooting range with McCree weekly since about his second week on Blackwatch.  It was purely by accident that their paths had crossed, but she’d since more or less adopted him into her small family. 

 

Little Fareeha had run off while Ana was in a meeting and run straight into Jesse, who’d been polishing his peacemaker alone in a back of a Blackwatch supply locker.  He’d done his best to isolate himself from the others, despite the voice inside him crying to not be alone.  They didn’t want him around and he returned the favor by not wanting to be around them.  He put up a gruff, petulant exterior and did his best to exert an all-around aura of unpleasantness.

 

But children have a knack for seeing through people’s masks and defense, and children, especially brave young girls like Fareeha, had no qualms about walking right through someone’s walls. 

 

She walked right up to him and returned his glare with wide inquisitive eyes.  She said something to him in Arabic, maybe a greeting, maybe a question, which he, of course, didn’t understand.

 

“No idea what you’re sayin’ kid.  Scram!” 

 

She didn’t move.  She just kept looking him over head to toe.  He was about to yell at her again when her face lit up and she help up two finger pistols.

 

“Reach for the sky!” She said in thickly accented English.  She had her finger pistols up, her shoulders tensed and her brow knit and just kept pointing at him, waiting for a response. 

 

He stared at her for a good few seconds before bursting into a fit of laughter, which sent Fareeha giggling as well.  He couldn’t help it; she had delivered her lines with as much intensity as could be held in such a small frame.  And Jesse had to admit, this was the first really nice interaction he’d had outside Reyes since arriving.  This little girl, who didn’t know much English, had mustered more energy to try and connect to him than any of the Blackwatch members so far.

 

“That’s quite the Clint Eastwood glare you got goin’,” he said, recovering from his laughter, “we can make a cowboy out of you yet.  Okay, you like cowboys?  Watch this!”

 

He reassembled his peacemaker and began spinning it.  Fareeha’s eyes lit up as he showed her all the pistol tricks he’d learned during his time with the Deadlocks.  After throwing and spinning his pistol around for a while he spun it on his finger and holstered it.

 

“I’m your huckleberry,” He said, with a wink and a tip of his hat which sent her into another fit of giggles.  “You’ve been an excellent audience.”

 

He didn’t know how long he and Fareeha spent playing in that supply room.  They ran around pretending to be cowboys.  McCree wasn’t entirely sure what the story was, as she was speaking to him mostly in Arabic except for when they were communicated through clichéd Western quotes, but he gathered they were playing enemy cowboys getting ready for a showdown.  At least he thought that was what was happening, he was never really sure. 

 

When the final showdown came, she drew first and Jesse fell.  He made sure to add a little extra drama for her, so he writhed and tumbled around the room quite a bit before finally, dramatically flopping on the ground.

 

“All this giggling!  Has my little girl got no respect for the dead?”

 

Fareeha and Jesse snapped their attention to the door where Ana was standing, looking quite amused at having watched a notorious gang member throw himself to the floor for a child’s amusement.  She turned to her daughter and said something along the same lines to Fareeha in Arabic which only caused her to laugh harder. 

 

Jesse bolted to his feet, assuming Ana would be offended or angered by his contact with her daughter.

 

“Ah, sorry about that Ma’am, I didn’t mean-“ She cut him off with a wave and a sympathetic smile.

 

“Relax, I’m not angry with you!  You’ve done nothing wrong, and frankly I’m glad someone was keeping track of Fareeha.  She has a tendency to run off when I’m in meetings,” she cast a faux disapproving look to her amused daughter.  “Maybe next time I’ll just bring her to Blackwatch daycare, do you always operate out of the supply closet?” He was entirely unsure how to respond to that, which she noticed with an amused snort and continued on.  “You must be Jesse, Gabriel’s told me about you.  I hear you’re a pretty good shot.  But I bet I can make you better.”

 

“I would be very grateful, Ma’am.”  McCree was still incredibly stiff.

 

She closed the distance between them and rested her hand on his shoulder.

 

“You are a good boy, Jesse McCree, no matter what kind of tough guy persona you try and put out to the world.  You may have some wear on you, but with some patience I’m sure you’ll shine.”

 

And with that, she beckoned for her daughter to follow her as she turned and departed the room. 

 

But at the current moment, Ana was losing patience with him as he lost patience.  She was progressively getting more and more irritated with every curse he muttered under his breath and every angry trigger pull until finally she was pushed over her limit by what he would later admit was a childish temper tantrum at best.

 

He took aim.  He thought about Jack.  He fired.  He thought about Gabriel.  He missed.  He thought about himself and his own selfishness and his own hopelessness, and then he repeated the whole process again. 

 

He felt the pressure and tension build in him as he kept going.  He felt the heaviness of the silence as Ana has long since stopped jokingly sassing him as his frustration grew.  He felt her scrutinizing every missed shot and he felt her looking at him.  He could feel Ana’s eyes boring into the back of his head and he was getting really damn tired of people staring at him and scrutinizing him.

 

His fourth shot rang out with a loud, sharp thud as it hit the wall behind the targets.  Jesse saw Ana’s head drop in his peripherals and heard a muffled sigh, and finally he couldn’t take it.  With an angry yell he threw both his hands down, startling Ana right out of her seat.  He ran his hands through his hair and stomped his feet, turning in a circle as he cursed and swore and swiped at nothing.  She bolted forward, hands immediately going to steady the hand with his peacemaker and pry it from his hand. 

 

“Jesse!  What is the matter with you?  Have you lost your mind?”

 

_Kinda feels that way._

 

He shuffled and stared at his feet until Ana grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. 

 

“A gun is not something we use to vent our frustrations and emotions.  It is a tool that we use to kill and incapacitate, it is not something to lightly wave around and if I catch you waving it around or pointing it at something you don’t have every intention of killing I will pistol whip you with it... Now then, do you want to let me know what exactly your issue is?” 

 

Jesse huffed and considered talking back but he was fully aware she would have no qualms about laying him out right there if he continued his little tantrum.  Not to mention, he was starting to feel a little guilty about losing it.

 

_Ah, hell.  It’s not like it’s her fault.  Shit, she’s been nothing but kind to me, and here I am acting like a toddler._

He looked off to the side, guilt probably evident on his face, and Ana loosened her grip.

 

“It’s stupid.  It’s nothing,” Ana still stared at him, waiting patiently for him to continue. “It’s just… Commander Reyes and Commander Morrison…”

 

His voice dropped off and Ana’s expression hardened.  He hadn’t composed himself to carry on before Ana started.

 

“Ach, those too… I swear it’s like dealing with children.”  She threw her arms up and Jesse couldn’t help but smile at her full on mother mode.  “Always bickering on and on!”

 

Jesse’s smile dropped.

 

_Wait what?  I’ve never… seen them fighting.  Is there something going on between them?_

“I always tell them not to fight in front of their subordinates!  Bad for command climate!  But it doesn’t surprise me, they can’t get along for even 10 minutes as of late!  It’s a shame what’s happened to their relationship.” 

 

Jesse was dumbfounded.  He hadn’t even begun to suspect there might be tension between the two commanders.  How could he have missed something like that?  The strike commander always seemed so happy and eager to see Gabriel.  He followed him around when he was on base like a big puppy.

 

And Reyes… well, he couldn’t really recall Reyes really reciprocating when he thought about it.  He just figured that was on account of Reyes’ quieter displays of affection.  He let Jack follow him around.  He let Jack talk to him… But he never responded with the animation and warmth he spoke to Blackwatch members with.  Jesse was certainly there was some warmth there… but the more he tried to remember what he’d seen when he’d watched them together (a habit he wished he could drop), the more that warmth seemed dulled, and confused, like not even Reyes was sure what it was anymore.

 

_But back at the bar!  They were getting along fine!  It looked like the commanders were having a fine time before I showed up and… Reyes put me in between the two of them… What the hell…_

Before he could continue his train of thought, Ana brought him back to reality.

 

“I’m sorry you’re all mixed up in this Jesse.  Try and keep your chin up!  I’ll try and talk to those two idiots again so your squad can be saved from their drama.”

 

“Yeah… thanks…”

 

Breathing a sigh, she clapped Jesse on the shoulder.  “Now then!  Don’t think I forgot about your little tantrum with the gun!  I hope you’re ready for some intensive cleaning, because you’re going to field day the range.  Probably start by picking up all the shell casings.”

 

“Aw, come on now, Ma’am really?  Fine.”  Jesse said with a final huff, as he bent down to start the work ahead of him. 

 

_Well this may as well be how this day goes.  Some mindless work might be nice anyway._

* * *

 

 

As everyone in the room stared at him, Jesse couldn’t help but here Ana’s voice chiding him for letting his temper get out of hand. 

 

The 20 seconds of awkward silence that felt more like 20 years finally ended when Winston adjusted his glasses and continued on, albeit in an incredibly uncomfortable manner as everyone awkwardly turned to look at him.

 

Jesse just slumped and let his head hit the table with a thud, determined to listen in on the rest of the brief in silence.  As Winston went on about how the mission to recruit Soldier: 76 should go, McCree felt a similar uneasiness and longing beginning to grow in his chest.

 

_I really wish she hadn’t said that…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I am v slow, thank you for all the love and nice comments and kudos and such though! I really appreciate it!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the read! Hopefully its all logical and error free haha I've had very little sleep.. and was writing on the bus.


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